don’t miss this job,” I confessed, holding my shirt over my nose. Jax seemed unmoved by it.

“Mostly I focus on the landscaping business, but every now and then I pick up a plumbing job. Keeps me connected to my roots,” he explained. “You see, the thing about these pipes that Mike has is they are old, and he allowed them to build up junk for too long. He didn’t face the damage right away, and just looked away from it. Never really acknowledging the shit that’s been building for years up until one day, it began to overflow.”

He grumbled as he worked the snake down the drain, fishing it around as he kept talking. “But’s never too late to start clearing out the shit that’s been sitting there for so long. The shit he overlooked, the shit he tried to pretend didn’t exist”—he hit a mark with the snake, and the toilet automatically flushed, signaling his breakthrough—“can all be fixed with time, forgiveness, and care.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you trying to use a poop analogy on me, Jax?”

“I’m a small-town man. I don’t know what an analogy even is,” he joked.

“No. You’re saying my soul is full of shit and I need to deal with my emotional trauma from my mom, so I can flush this stuff out and be there for Aaliyah.”

He grabbed a rag and began wiping his hands clean. “Is that what you heard from what I said?”

“Yeah. You said I was full of shit.”

“That’s because you are full of shit.” He shrugged. “Kennedy’s my best friend. If I found out we only had today left, I’d do everything in my power to spend every last second with her. So do it, Con. Clear out your shit.”

“Do all middle-aged men in this town just have powerful words of wisdom up their sleeves?”

He stood up and patted me on the back. “Call me middle-aged again and I’ll knock your teeth out.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” I paused for a moment. “Are you currently touching me with your shit hand?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And this is exactly with I don’t miss this job, but, I do miss you.”

“Don’t be corny, kid.”

“I love you, too, Jax.”

Just then, my phone dinged with a message from Damian. I opened it and felt as if my chest was seconds away from collapsing.

“What is it?” Jax asked, noticing the look of panic on my face from what I read.

“It’s Aaliyah. I have to get back to New York.”

40

Aaliyah

Exhaustion wasn’t a strong enough word for what I’d been feeling as of late. Each morning I felt worse than the previous day. All I wanted to do was stay in bed and fall into a deep slumber, but I still had a job to do. I was trying my best to hold on to any kind of normality, even though it was seeming more and more impossible each day.

I’d turned my article on Connor in to Maiv for approval right when he showed up to my office. Greta texted me straight away when he’d entered the building. When he reached my office, I felt as if I would pass out simply from my nerves.

“Hi,” he breathed out, days after he’d gone off to Kentucky. I figured that was the end of our story. It had to be the end of our story. I couldn’t allow myself to give him any more of me. It wasn’t healthy for us, it wasn’t right.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, trying to hide any true emotions. I couldn’t let him see how him being close made me want to step in closer. I couldn’t show him how much I missed him, how much I wanted him back with me. How I still craved every single thing about him.

“I hurt you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Aaliyah. I panicked and pulled away.”

“I’m over it.”

His brows lowered as he stared at me. My coldness toward him probably threw him off, but I couldn’t help it. I had to be cold so I could be strong.

“Give me another chance, Red. Please.”

I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. “You’re too late.”

“I love you,” he breathed out, his voice cracking and pained.

I looked at him, and I was certain my eyes were flashed with emotions. Then I parted my mouth and whispered the words, “I loved you, too.”

“Loved?”

“Yes. Loved.”

Past tense. It was a lie, but one I had to tell him.

“Aaliyah—”

“Please leave,” I stated sternly.

“But I…I hurt you,” he whispered again, his voice pained with the realization of what had taken place.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Let me try again.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time it was you hurting me. If I let you come back, the second time would be me hurting myself.”

“Aaliyah—”

“I don’t have time for this, Connor. I don’t have time to waste anymore. I can’t do this back and forth thing with you.”

He slightly gave a nod, before parting his mouth to speak. I couldn’t let him do that, though. I couldn’t allow him to give me another word because his sounds made my heart skip beats. His sounds made me want to fall into him and forgive him. His sounds made me weak.

I couldn’t be weak anymore.

Still, his voice…

The way it spoke to me…

Just a little bit more of him…I just wanted a little more…time.

“I know you’re upset with me, and I know I’m a fucking idiot, but I need to tell you something, Aaliyah, something really important,” he urged.

“Can you leave?” I asked, not wanting him to go, but needing him to leave.

“I will, but I need you to know that—”

“Connor, I mean it, can you—”

“She’s your mother,” he blurted out, making me still my body completely.

“I’m sorry what?” He took a step in my direction, and I took a step backward. I held up a hand. “Stop, what do you mean? Who’s my mother?”

“Marie. She’s your mother. I uh…” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I had Damian do some digging into her after

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